We Watermelons piled into Van 2 and headed out of Seattle around noon. We didn’t anticipate starting running until about 6 p.m., and as Runner 11, I likely wouldn’t be on the course until 9. Cue a very leisurely ride to Sandy, OR. Let’s use this time to introduce you to my van-mates.

View from the van on the drive to Oregon.

Runner 7 was the little powerhouse Meghan B. She is from Jersey, she is young (23!), she is confident. Speed honed in youth aside, If her constant smile and can-do attitude is what running competitively in high school and college does for you, then I really hope my daughters continue to run.

Runner 8 was Megan H., also a young’un, also a speedy East-coaster, she writes for Runner’s World and loves the sport. She puts together a lot of the motivational quotes for the RW site, and for good reason–she was very encouraging along the way.

Playing the unfortunate role of Runner 9 was Laura T., a Nuun employee from here in the Atlanta area. She is a rock–a solid runner who attacked all three of her difficult legs and never uttered a word of complaint. She is also so kind and thoughtful–great qualities in a van-mate.

Handing off to me was Runner 10, Lisa M. She is very transparent online so I knew from our Twitter conversations and her blog that she is a genuine, caring person. She also has some knowledge of chronic pain and of injury so for me, she was particularly good to have around as I struggled through the mental and physical strain of doing this race injured.

Runner 11: Yours truly

Our anchor was Devon M., who is just an all-around awesome lady. She is collected and even, and has her head on straight. She is a solid runner, and completely drama-free. Not to mention adorable. I’d like to have a Devon dolly to keep in my pocket just to cheer me up sometimes. 🙂

And let us not forget the fearless Warrior Behind the Wheel: Casey. Nuun CFO and devoted Huskies fan. He drove that 15-passenger van like it was a Miata, and only took out two curbs that we know of.

All the sparkle, none of the drama!

Can I just say how nice it is to have a drama-free van? I’ve been fortunate to have very little van-drama in most of the relays I’ve done, and frankly, I don’t know why anyone would want to create drama. The race hands you enough true, drama–save your energy for that.

About the worst thing that happened along the way was our first trip to Safeway, in which we were denied on our quest to invite Stacy into our van. It’s a relay essential, y’all, and we very nearly did not get them. Luckily all was righted at our next stop and we were pretty much Powered by Stacy for the rest of the relay.

All the Stacy’s

The Nuun bar. All the electrolytes you could desire.

So, here’s the part that tells you how yes, I have a little bit of the sad over being in Van 2. See, Van 2 does not get to go up Mt. Hood. Hence, like half of all Hood-to-Coast-ers, I have no awesome jumping-with-the-mountain-behind-me pics. I get why that is, with traffic going up and down a big ole mountain but if you’ll allow me a moment… *Whine.*

Okay, all done.

We made it to Exchange 6, which was in the parking lot of a Safeway in Sandy. We all got waaaaaay too excited about seeing the Dead Jocks van as we were pulling in. Also, we were cutting it pretty close so we got Meghan all safety-geared up and sent her out on the course to take the slap bracelet baton from Catey.

Look closely and you can see the Dead Jocks van!

Afterward, we gathered everyone who was still there from the Nuun teams together for a picture. Team Lemonade had arrived, all of Watermelon, minus Meghan, was there, and even parts of Nuun’s competitive Team Cherry Limeade were still on site. What I did not realize was that the person who was gathering us for the picture had nothing to do with the teams… except that he is a race director wants a certain member of Team Lemonade to help him promote his race in Oregon. And so, after he’d taken the picture he loudly exulted “Yeah! It’s HOLLY ROBERTS TEAM!!!” and got on the phone to… tell someone he’d been successful in finding her? Who knows, but it was funny. Holly told us what was going on and we giggled and giggled. Since she was so mortified, and since I am just that mean, I pretty much took immediately decided that the #teamhollyroberts needed to became a thing. And so a joke was born. Holly, it was an honor to be on Team Holly Roberts. May it happen again. 🙂

Team Holly Roberts.

Soon after we needed to get on the road to make the next exchange. The two Meg(h)ans are speedy and were on fresh legs. The slap bracelet went from Meghan to Megan to Laura to Lisa and soon I was up. We were pushing it coming into Exchange 10. Dark was coming on, and we stumbled to the exchange not long before Lisa came in.

Lit up for my night run. How cute is the pink Amphipod flower and vest?!?

I was nervous going into this run. Like, nervous to the point that I’d had to really work hard to enjoy the trip up to this point. I will tell you that getting on the plane to Seattle was pretty much one of the most selfish things I’ve ever done. I flat didn’t know if I’d be able to run. I said that know matter what I’d finish the legs–I was not going to let anyone run for me as I’d had to do during Ragnar Chicago. But I didn’t know what price that would come at: Either what I might injure or re-injure, or how much time I’d cost the team. I’d been in a lot of pain during and after Thursday’s Green Lake run. My IT Band is pretty much well, but other parts of my body have been doing a lot of compensating. But my left glute and hamstring were so tight and they were hurting a lot. The top of my right hip has also been acting up, in the form of sharp pain. This is an injury that I’d struggled with in 2012, but which had disappeared after I switched shoes last fall, had suddenly returned about a week before. That said, I do not advocate using a ton of NSAID’s, especially during running. But for this, I took Advil prior to the run, and it got me through. Kisses for you, Advil.

Leg 11 takes you on a paved trail through parts of Portland; mostly industrial. I’m not a huge fan of paved walking trails, as they tend to attract backpack-carrying Hoodie wearers, which is all well and good but who tend to look creepy after dark. Sorry, backpack-carrying hoodie wearers of the world. But there also were several cyclists out there and a lot of runners so it wasn’t too creepy, even though the area was so very industrial. Looking at the satellite of it now, I’m a) glad I didn’t look at the satellite imagery of the area earlier and b) glad I was running it at night or else I’d have been bored looking at the warehouses. The path was traffic-free except where it crossed streets (and the volunteers were pushing the light-change buttons for us) and great to run on, save one thing: The path went by some sort of Food Truck Extravaganza. And yes, it was 9 p.m. and we hadn’t yet eaten dinner. No, I did not stop. Yes, I wanted to.

This run was the best of the three for me, and that ain’t saying much. Everything hurt but I was so, so happy to be out there, and running, and numbed enough by Advil that I could ignore the pain. I came into the exchange happy to be there, happy to be done, and happy to be sending Devon off to finish up our first legs.

Up next in my Leg Two Recap: Don’t Be Cruel, and A Seat at the Table for my Foam Roller.

Before we can get to the actual Running of the Nuunies, we must get to the getting there–that is half the fun, right? My parents in Illinois were to act as child care while I was in the PNW, so the kids and I went to the Midwest a week beforehand to make a vacay of it. On Wednesday before the race, my ever-loving father took me to O’Hare to catch my flight to Seattle.

I had packed…and repacked… and re-repacked, and even re-re-re-packed before I left. I wanted to carry on my bags, and they were stuffed, but I got everything on. Then the flight was delayed, but the folks next to me were already conked out. These people took their sleep VERY seriously. I finally nudged them and went to the bathroom to… stretch? Sure, why not. You can get a really good glute stretch going on in the plane. Just FYI.

Ready to fly: Team Watermelon nails, coffee, wings. Let’s do this.

See? Glute stretch in the bathroom.

I don’t think we’re in Georgia anymore, Toto.

Flight was uneventful, except for… MOUNTAINS!!! I haven’t been to the Northwest ever, so it was incredible to see the mountains from the air. Almost worth having to poke The Sleepers every time I needed to stretch my glutes go to the bathroom.

Upon arrival, Sarah,Meghan, Mallory, Kristen, Karen had all arrived and were nestled near baggage claim, and the awesome Megan was arriving in the Big White Van to take us to Nuun HQ. We got in and were whisked to the Mother Ship, where we met Jolene, Catey and Leslie. Megan told us we had 3 hours to explore Seattle and I immediately rattled off my list of Things I Had to Do. Luckily no one ran screaming from the Highstrung Type A girl, and we headed to Pike Place. Once there, Jolene and I split off from the group to head toward Seattle Center. First we had to stop at the original Starbucks.

Oh wait, that’s not the first Starbucks you say? That’s the Starbucks at First and Pike, you say? Yeah, yeah, yeah, we figured that out later. I’m sure they had a full-on “Code Tourist” snicker about it. Sigh. Visiting Seattle Tip #1: If you ever want to go, I recommend you Google “Original Starbucks Seattle” NOT “First Starbucks Seattle.” Ahem. That problem will be resolved later in our story.

Here’s Westlake Center, where my fictional boyfriend Lloyd Dobler had his ‘controversial first date’ with Diane Court (at least, this was the mall pictured in the movie when Lloyd drove by in the rain). It’s also where we caught the monorail to Seattle Center, home of the Space Needle, the Experience Music Project (EMP), and the Chihuly Garden. Jolene was on a mission to see Buffy’s Mr. Pointy Stake, and I can’t resist a Nirvana exhibit, so EMP won our time first. We made a beeline for Mr. Pointy, then broke the Scream Booth (sorry EMP), then weaved through the Nirvana exhibit. In and out in far too little time; if you are a pop culture fan, it’s definitely worth a lot more than what we gave it.We souvenir shopped at the Space Needle but were running short on time so decided to see the Chihuly Garden instead. I’ve been a fan since he did an installation at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens years ago, and I’ve seen another piece of his in Milwaukee, but this place has just so many pieces of his incredible glass. It was amazing. I find his work to be both breathtaking and accessible, and am awed by the skill it takes to produce it. So pretty.

Jolene and I were having a ball, but running late-ish so we cabbed it back to Nuun and then got to partake in an apparent HQ ritual: A bell is run and it is declared Plank Time! Forearm plank, side plank, other side plank, big plank. Boom and done. If I could just point out that they do this several times a day, and that they don’t make it a competition. It’s just Team Building through Fitness. I really, really, like this company, y’all.

Plank it out.

We were quickly spirited away to The Garage, for some Bowling and food. I was getting pretty tired at this point, and meeting lots and lots of people. I settled in to prove that I am the Master of Being Last at Bowling, and bowled an impressively low 38. No, you may not have my autograph.

Bowling. Talking.

More bowling. More talking. Probably some social media stuff happening there, too.

The next morning I was up for coffee and stretching before we invaded Oiselle headquarters. I was beyond stoked to go to The Nest and see where they all their birdie magic happens. But there was to be a run, and this little bird had butterflies in her tummy. I had said several times I wouldn’t take part in the Green Lake run, but c’mon, it’s GREEN LAKE. They name hoodies after this place! So off we went. My hurts started hurting immediately and I was slow and achy. Seriously, running like an un-spry 80 year old. I want to give slurpy kisses to Zoe, who was in the unenviable position of keeping this from being a no-drop run. Thanks for not dropping me, Zoe. Your gentleness kept me from despair!

Atlantans ready to go to Oiselle. @runladylike and me, smiley.

Sally. Passionate about women in running.

My happy place!

Hands up, wings out?!?

We re-caffeinated with Starbucks and then went back to Oiselle to hear from Sally, the founder of Oiselle, who seems pretty intent on changing the game in women’s running. She’s brilliant. I also got to meet the object of my biggest blog crush, Sarah “Mac” Robinson, who is unlike me in that she is very, very, very fast, but like me in that she writes candidly about injury–a runner after my own heart. Also got to chat some with Dr. Lesko and Kristen Metcalf, so this little runner was a happy girl.

After that: time to Ride the Ducks. This was just… fun. A tour of Seattle and Lake Union aboard an amphibious WWII era vehicle. With a witty driver and tons to see. FUN. As our guide had us say at each and every Starbucks we passed… “Uff da!”

You have to do this when you ride the ducks. It’s like, a law.

Fishermen on a roof.

Pioneer Square.

Need a kilt? I’ve got a lead on some good ones…

Elephant=Car Wash

…and we’re in the water…

Little brown house: the one from Sleepless in Seattle

The other part of #nuunhtc trying to out-dance us. As if.

Holly goofin’ with the Cap’n

The good stuff: Gifties!

Post-duck, we went to Nuun HQ and ate dinner and were presented with a massive amount of fun swag to wear, try, and love. It was like a visit from Nuunta Claus. Nuun bottles, hats, visors. Shirts and jackets from Oiselle. Sunscreen from Naawk, socks from Swiftwick, skirts from Sparkle Athletic, and a Tiger Tail. President and CEO Mason innovative approach to marketing and their commitment to bring athletes together. Yay Nuun! *cheerleader jump*

The next morning, I got up to tell the other Watermelons goodbye. Only Van 1s go to the top of Mount Hood, which grieves me greatly. I get it, that would be literally twice the amount of traffic up the mountain, but this little Runner #11 surely did miss the team time at the start line. But, I waved goodbye as they loaded up and started on their adventure.

Bye… Sniff….

Then I had three hours to kill, so I got a shuttle from the hotel and went back to Pike Place to make things right with the original Starbucks. This time, success! Coffee there, then I explored the market as it woke up to a beautiful summer morning. After gawking at the flowers and fish, I got an espresso and a fancy-pants croissant from a French bakery across the street.

Ah. Yes. That’s more like it. The other one did seem anti-climatic.

Uff da!

So unassuming…

Feeeeeesh.

Les fleurs.

More les fleurs.

Les carbs.

Jitters, coming right up.

I was nearly done with the caffeine-shakes by the time the shuttle dropped me back to the hotel. I rushed around and got myself ready just in time to get in the van and hit the road.

Thank you. Thank you for the most amazing four days of fun. Thank you for showing me and the other Hood to Coast team members the time of our lives. Thank you for getting it–for understanding that endurance athletes want a great experience, and delivering it. First, in making a product that makes achieving our goals easier and more enjoyable by giving us a tasty way to hydrate. And more importantly, for getting that the greatest gift you could give the biggest fans of your product is an unforgettable, amazing experience with other people who feel likewise. We don’t need to see your product in a magazine or billboard.. But we love tasting it at the end of a race, and drinking it with another sweaty athlete, and sharing the Nuun love with others who haven’t experienced it yet.

Thank you for hiring great people who love what they do–people who don’t blink an eye at giving up time and effort to make sure a bunch of us can participate in an epic race like Hood to Coast, people who are willing to give up dinner to make sure that your rungry guests can pig out, people who are thoughtful and kind. Thank you for building relationships with businesses like Oiselle, Amphipod, Endorphin Warrior, Swiftwick, Tiger Tail and Naawk, and then letting us reap the benefit by filling our suitcases with swag.

Mason, thank you for your generosity and hospitality. You made us feel like we belonged there with Nuun, and that is an incredible thing to do for 30+ far-flung strangers.Megan, thank you for the countless hours you put into communicating with us, organizing complicated itineraries, and making sure we were so well taken care of. I’m sure I don’t know the half of what you did, but I do know that you did it all well, and with a smile on your face. I can’t thank you enough.
Jay, Vishal, Jeantel, and Jeff, who all drove vans, thank you for foregoing sleep to make sure your vans only had to worry about running, not fighting traffic.

Casey, (who drove my van) thank you for being a rock for Team Watermelon Van 2. Your experience and confident know-how helped us make each exchange with ease and kept us free from drama and too many curb roadkills.Zoe, thank you for always smiling big and encouraging us big, too. You rock.Laura, you repeatedly gave up your own comfort for all of us on W2. You ran long and hard, and still played the role of host with a smile. You are a helper and I am grateful for you.Lauren, you were a fearless leader and laugh-generator for Team Lemonade. Thank you.

Team Watermelon, you dominated Hood to Coast. Thanks for letting me in on the fun.

Megan, Thank you for always being positive and upbeat, and for being a total track nerd. You are a mermaid.

Meghan, Thank you for showing me what running as a teenager does for a young woman. You inspire me to make sure my daughters run.Lisa, There are no words. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for caring.Devon, Thank you for being a model of drive and responsibility. You are steady and strong and I appreciate you!

Mallory, you are a fierce warrior. Thank you for being your own person.Kara, your zest for life is contagious. Thanks for bringing the fun.Hannah, thank you for your positivity and your obvious run love.Sarah, thank you for choosing to do hard things. You are a powerhouse, and just incredible.Catey, thank you for showing us how a hardcore mother runner gets it done–with a smile every time.

Team Lemonade, thanks for being the faithful compadres of Team Watermelon. Every time we got to see you, it made the race that much more special.

Leslie, thank you for making us all laugh and for keeping things real as well. Also, for your encouragement you’ve always given on blog posts and Twitter.Lisa, thank you are for being so warm and kind. I enjoyed every encounter, and wished for more.Jolene, you are an amazing woman. Steely. Yet your openness and warmth and willingness to help care for everyone around you were a gift to us all.Andrea, thank you for always having a smile on your face and a funny remark.Kristen, thank you for being a bright, sunny encouragement both online and IRL.Kimberly, thank you for speaking my language–your self-deprecating sarcasm gets an A+ in my book.Karen, thank you for being calm and steady and determined.Jesica, thank you for inspiring me and so many others to overcome challenges and run longer and stronger. So glad we can have mini-reNuunions in ATL.Holly B., thank you for being a sweet, kind spirit.Holly R, thank you for being such a great ambassador for the sport of running, and for allowing me to bask in the glory of #TeamHollyRoberts.

Team Cherry Limeade, you ladies ran fast and worked so very hard and I know you inspired people on the teams and out on the course. Dorothy, Robyn, Katie, Jenny, Julia, Sara, Paige, Emily, Tanaya, Alison, Tere, Jen, thanks for using your athletic prowess to spread the Nuun love.

There is so much more to share and say, but I wanted to start with the most important part. THANK YOU NUUN, for an incredible weekend. Thank you all.

Like this:

Well, I’m all packed!!! Let’s go! Where’s the van?!? I’m ready to run Hood to Coast in… 8 more days. Yeah. Still got a little while.

In my defense, I have actually already left home to go on my HTC adventure. The kids are staying with my parents in Chicago while I runcation, so we left Tuesday so we can visit some family and friends in the midwest before landing at the homestead.

Which meant I had to pack early. BEFORE THE 10 DAY FORECAST was available. I am a 10-Day-Forecast-Stalking-Enthusiast, so this caused me no small amount of displeasure. However, we were driving (read: lots of space), so I was able to throw in a lot of stuff that won’t necessarily make the final cut when it’s time to get on the plane. Here’s the initial stack. I’m on team watermelon, so, lots of pink.

We have been warned about overpacking. I mean, they haven’t threatened to withhold the Nuun or anything but I’ve relayed enough to know: you always need less than you think, except when you need That Thing You Didn’t Think You Would Need. I have dug out my old backpack from my Appalachian Trail hiking days and am planning to carry-on to Seattle. I’m also planning to take three pairs of running shoes, as I was recently informed that it takes 24 HOURS for shoes to get their ‘springiness’ back after a run. All of which means… I must muster some major packing ninja skills in the next six days.

In light of that, I am trying to be REALLY self-controlled about what I will bring to wear when we are not at Hood to Coast itself. We will have Wednesday to see Seattle, with dinner & bowling at what I am sure is a far-hipper-than-me establishment. Then on Thursday, a visit to Oiselle HQ (yeah, I know. *dies*), a run at Green Lake, and then we will be Riding the Ducks. I’m expected to wear clothes for all that, right? But, I, who struggles with being cold except on the hottest of Atlanta days, will put my fashionable pride aside to be warm during the night at Hood to Coast. I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast…even if I have to sacrifice style in Seattle–Seattle of all places!– to do it.

*chanting* I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast. I can do this, people. I can do it.

Complicating matters, is my little technology addiction. I LOVE our videos from Ragnar, and so I’ve got two GoPros, gadgets to affix them to both things and people, another video camera, chargers for the cameras… Plus a power converter and a wifi hotspot. That’s a lot of gizmos for one backpack.

I suppose at some point I should study my legs, but I think they’re all pretty straightforward, on trails and country roads without many turns (huzzah!). Simple and somewhere in the 4-5-7 range, mileage-wise. I’m not too concerned–roll me out if the van and I will run. I’m runner 11, so if YOU would like to study my legs and report back, please, feel free.

I’ve finally let myself get excited about the race, something I wasn’t sure would happen while I was trying to recover. I’m more undertrained than I would like, but it’s better to be undertrained than injured. And what I’ve lost in training, I hereby solemnly promise to make up for in witty van banter and amusing tweets and Instagram pics for all to enjoy. Deal? Deal. Now, I’m off to go purge my packing list…

I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast. I will…

It was time to get ready for Ragnar, and I was excited. My sister was on our team this year, and she, my husband and I headed into Chicago to meet up with the team. It was good to see our old team members and to meet the new ones (our team captain Marty had the unfortunate role of putting together not one, but two Ragnar teams. That is a HUGE job.)

Truer words were never scrawled across the side of a van.

Our team mascot: a tortoise on fire.

Heh. Things are not always as they appear…

Trampoline shoes and I be-bopped around that night, decorating the vans and having fun. We drove up to Madison and went to bed at a decent hour. The next morning we got up and headed to the start line. It was, as always, a good time. I had a good long wait in store that day–as Runner 12 I did not expect to start until dusk.

Both teams had the same start time so we sent our runners off and our van, Van 2, headed out to Exchange 6. Where we waited… and waited… and waited. I got to meet Megan from Nuun, who has been organizing all our Hood to Coast shenanigans. We got feedback from Van 1, who were having… well, we will call them Navigational Issues. Finally we were up.

Things went pretty smoothly for our first legs. Tim is our captain from last year and became our de facto captain once we started the race, since Marty was on the other team. He is big into support, and so we made sure to see each runner at least once, and we all walked to every exchange to welcome our runner in and send the next out. Trampolines Shoes were excited to make each of those treks with me. Kiss, kiss, trampoline shoes.

My first leg was 6.7 miles, and I can’t let the story of the shoes interfere with me telling you about how utterly bizarre this run was. It is on a trail through with Wisconsin, which was once a rail line but is not a well-maintained recreational trail. Woodlands surround it, but you are often within sight of or even right next to a road. Trampoline shoes and I set off on the leg. It was flat, the sun was setting, and the weather was perfect.

Within the first 1/2 mile, I saw a man on a bike, who we had seen earlier on the course, and who clearly knew what Ragnar was and what we were doing. And yet, on a bike, he should have been far ahead of us at this point. It made me slightly uncomfortable to see him out there still, but I knew there were enough runners coming behind me that he was probably no threat. Around this time, I passed a still pond and happened to notice, among the vegetation, a dead bird floating in it. Ew.

Things would get creepier still. But first, I got passed by a couple of fast dudes, and I hated to be the roadkill, but I was having a good run so I didn’t really care. Nothing I could do about it. Then the bugs attacked. These tiny little gnat/fly/moth things were every where! And drawn to my headlamp, even though the sun had just set and it was still quite light. They swarmed my face and I had a few as an unintentional snack. I put my head down and ran on, wondering if this would last the rest of the leg (it didn’t).

As I came up on a road crossing at mile 3.5 my van was waiting for me. I saw some people and heard my sister yell, “Is that a mermaid I see?” I laughed and yelled back, feeling good and happy.

Mile 4, there was a water stop manned by cheerful volunteers, and then I came to a more wooded area of the trail. That was when I saw a figure headed toward me. A Male. Who was shuffling–no, limping! I turned off my music and pulled my pepper spray off my waistband. And as I got closer, I could see, he was wearing a hoodie, jeans, and a backpack. This was no recreational walker or Ragnar spectator. And while he had every right to be walking this trail, the guy looked… out of place. I passed by him and picked up the pace. As I did so, I also called my husband and put him on speaker. “Hey, I just saw a creepy guy on the trail; I’m fine but wanted someone on the phone just in case. Just stay on the line with me.” I looked back and did not see the man, but did see what appeared to be a male Ragnarian with a headlamp coming up behind me. I got off the phone with my husband and asked the runner, “Is that guy still going the other way?” He said “Yeah I think so,” and went on. I’m sure as a male, he probably didn’t think twice about seeing that guy on the trail, but I’m pretty protective of my person, so I’m glad I had my phone and my pepper spray and my wits about me. (side note: my other plan during a Ragnar, should something happen, is to turn around and run BACK on the course, because there will always be runners behind you, but you may not be able to catch anyone in front of you, and going forward only puts you further away from safe people. Learned this from Caroline.)

Okay, so are you ready for the next part? About a quarter mile later, I saw something else. From a distance, I could tell only that it was dark and inanimate. As I got closer, I saw, on this tree-lined, beautiful recreational trail that so deftly showcases Wisconsin’s early-summer beauty… a black rolling office chair. With an old computer monitor sitting atop it. And it occurred to me: I am not running a Ragnar. I’m being Punk’d. I’m starring in a David Lynch movie.Something. Because it was all too bizarre. I would’ve stopped to take a picture, but I really just wanted to be back around people at that point.

It was newly dark by the time I got to Exchange 12, and the place was ablaze in headlamps and headlights. I got passed by with about 200 meters to go by two guys who were just flying, and I could not catch them. But I picked up the pace and finished strong, and felt good. I’d just ran my first leg at goal pace and hey, Hoodie Guy hadn’t killed me, so really, what was there to complain about?

I won’t go into all the details of the race from the standpoint of a recap, but there were typical overnight shenanigans: navigating, eating, trying to sleep. Also, a sudden craving for pickles and french fries (which I think calls for a new game: Pregnant, or Ragnarian?), waiting at McDonald’s for coffee at 3AM (new, new game: Out Carouing, or Ragnarian?), and so forth. But overnight, Trampoline Shoes dealt me a blow. Somewhere in that first leg, they’d decided to break up with me. And they wanted to hurt me doing it. As the night wore on, I could feel my right leg get tighter and tighter. “That’s weird,” I thought. I stretched out my leg in the van, tried to get it to loosen up. No dice. It got worse. It felt even worse-worse when I tried to bend it. I had already planned to wear my ASICS for leg 2, and I put them on. I also taped my leg with KT Tape for IT Band, just because it was tight in that area.

The sunrise was prettier than what was to come…

Ah, I was so excited about my second leg. It started on the north side of Racine, Wisconsin, and I was to run along Lake Michigan and into Exchange 24. It was just past sunrise and beside Lake Michigan in a summer sunrise is just one of the prettiest places you can be. I got out at Exchange 23 and got ready to run. My leg was tight. It hurt. Tim remarked that I looked mad (I always look mad if I’m not smiling). I told him I wasn’t mad, but I was worried.

David came into the exchange and I took off. My right leg immediately started barking angrily at me. By .35 miles I had sharp, shooting pain down my right leg. I ran some, walked some, and tried to process what was happening.

Now, I am not fast. Never have been. But I have always, always, been able to go, for forever. I don’t peter out often, and if I do, I can generally take a short break and just keep going. I’m also not a wimp. I’ve delivered two babies–one with a 28 hour labor and one with 7 hours, with no drugs. This leg was 4.7 miles and I could. not. run. it. So when I tell you I was shocked, truly, I was in shock. It came out of nowhere, and in a matter of 8 hours I’d gone from being at one of my strongest, fastest points, to reduced to hobbling.

I made it to .7 miles and I pulled out my phone to call my husband. Before he could even answer, the van happened to turn the corner and pass me. They hit the brakes and tumbled out of the van. “WHAT IS WRONG?” they said, with a mixture of concern and surprise. I looked at them and said, “I can’t run. I can’t run.” “Get in,” they said. And then they mobilized. My husband popped out of the van and said he’d take the next 2 miles. Off he went. My sister took the last two. I got in the van and tried to shove my anger down inside of me, as it would do not good now.

After my heroes finished up the leg, we had time off for food. We went to a breakfast joint in Kenosha, and while we waited on a table, I foam rolled in an empty lot next door. I still wanted to try to run my next leg. Since I was out of commission, I drove the van, too. We came up with a plan for me to try and take Tim’s shorter 6-mile leg and for him to take leg 36, which is 8 miles.

Foam rolling & waiting for breakfast.

We got to exchange 30 and I went to medical for ice. I foam rolled some more. I tried to stretch. I already suspected that Trampoline Shoes were breaking up with me. Like, over text. So cruel, but I kept them on because the ASICS had been even more painful. I made it a mile into my third leg. It didn’t hurt until the mile mark, but it did hurt, and was getting worse. The van was waiting for me, and David was outside. I gave him the thumbs down, and he came over to take yet another set of miles for me. My sister traded off with him halfway through, and so we finished up my doomed set of Ragnar legs. We headed to the finish line, and I took my medal, even though it is still very hard for me to look at it–I don’t feel like I ran a Ragnar.

Iced and taped at Exchange 30. Trampoline shoes mocking me.

Faking happiness at the Finish Line. Really angry on the inside. (that’s race director Meredith Dalberg in the front–she did an amazing job with the race!)

I haven’t run in Trampoline Shoes since. They seem unfazed by our sudden and tragic breakup, and by the pain they have caused me. Best I can tell, they caused me to rely on my ITBand more than I was ready for. And I’m still paying the price. It is extraordinarily frustrating. I wonder if I’d broken them in more slowly, would it have been better? Or would it have accumulated anyway? I also wonder, since I’m no longer running in those shoes, and have bettered my form, why does it still bother me? I know the MO of the ITBand is: once inflamed, it will stay inflamed for quite some time. While I no longer have active or acute pain, and I can run, I just know it’s not 100% better, either (it gets achy after I run).

So, here’s what I’ve done so far this summer, in no particular order: Cross training with the bike and rowing machine. Active Release Therapy and Fascial Distortion. Chiropractic. Rest. Massage. Form work. Ice. Compression. Some running.

Here’s the plan for now:

1. Do the PT exercises I have found everyday, not to ‘strengthen’ the IT Band, but to strengthen all the other muscles I need to be using in order to not rely on the IT Band.

2. Core work every day.

3. Foam rolling twice a day.

4. Upper body weights three times a week.

5. Swimming 4-5x a week starting next week when I can get back in the pool (I had an ingrown toenail removed last week so I’m forbidden to swim until next week. Yes, this is also a source of frustration.)

6. Sleeping in my compression pants.

7. Icing 3-4 times a day. I am taking another complete rest from running, biking, and rowing for at least two more weeks.

8. Staying far, far away from inflammatory foods. I already avoid wheat and dairy and most processed foods. But I have a sweet tooth and intend to limit, if not cut out, sugar entirely.

The plan above allows me to strengthen what is weak so I can rely much less on the ITBand when I do run, while still maintaining my cardio fitness level. My plan is to be able to complete my miles at Hood to Coast without worry. I think the plan above will allow me to do that. I modified my pace goal online so that I don’t have to worry about pushing the pace at the race. And even if painful, I will push through. Afterward, I am prepared to take another complete rest from running if necessary. I’m not going to push through any sort of training right now, though, and risk Hood to Coast. I’m going to show up happy, healthy(er), and, while possibly somewhat undertrained, ready to do my part to run the race and share the Nuun love.

As for Trampoline Shoes? They are in my closet, buried beneath a pile of other shoes that have not caused me nearly so much grief and pain. But I confess, I sometimes catch a glimpse of them, laying there benignly, looking so pretty with their wings on, and I think, “What if?” Deep down, I still love them. I still miss what we had together: speed. lightness. happiness. They were cruel in the end, but for a time, they were…perfection.

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So, today I got to cheer for some of the 60,000 runners who undertook a wet, soggy Peachtree Road Race. I was supposed to run, but am trying not to aggravate a slow-to-heal injury from Ragnar Chicago. I was very responsible and decided to forego the race and serve as chauffeur/cheerleader for my husband, sister, brother-in-law, and friends.

So that is how I ended up outside the Flying Biscuit in midtown at 7:30 this morning, ready to cheer on runners at the busiest corner of the race. The intersection of Piedmont and 10th streets is just .2 miles from the finish, on the middle of an uphill push to the end. Also, it allows easy access to, you know, biscuits. And coffee. I was all coffeed up, outside and ready to cheer by the time the elite women went by.

I was alone, but I had brought my trusty cowbell so I could make some noise and give the runners a push. When I say there was a monsoon going on in Atlanta the past two days, I’m not kidding. That’s what the meteorologists said was happening due some tropical moisture that has dumped a ton of rain on the area. There were runners who opted out of the race due to the forecast, and so of course there were more spectators who chose to sleep in, too. And fewer people to cheer is… kind of a bummer. But I was ready to pick up the slack!

Then, the mere mortals–the very, very fast mere mortals started to turn the corner and run toward us. Soon the street was filled with runners. Filled. Like this:And so it goes. When this picture was taken, there were still people six miles away who wouldn’t even start the race for almost another hour. This crowd is massive, and this is not an easy race. I thought of a sweet post on my NuunHood to Coast teammate Megan’s blog, and knew that I, too, would not stop cowbelling. The crowds were already thinner than usual today. A lot of people really struggle as they make their way along 10th Street. I spotted several people I knew, and I yelled for them and rang the cowbell. I also yelled and cowbelled for… well, everyone. I saw Katie go by, I saw Jesica, and then my husband go by, and, just as I was looking for my sister and her husband and Melissa…

*tap tap tap* went a finger on my shoulder. I turned around.

“Ma’am,” said a man. “I know you’re cheering, but, I have a headache. Could you please stop cowbelling?”

“But…” I gestured toward the throngs, THE THRONGS of people running the race. The people who were passing by THE BUSIEST (read: loudest) CHEERING INTERSECTION OF THE WHOLE RACE. The people who needed a push. The people who just appreciate the crowd. The people who say “Thank you!!!” and come over for a high five.

“But I’m cheering for them,” I said.

“I know, but I have a headache. From the clanging. Can you just give it a rest for a few minutes?”

At that point, I suddenly grew very tired. I didn’t feel like fighting. I didn’t feel like being a jerk. I knew by that point that I’d probably get to our meeting area around the same time as my sister, and it was time for me to head out anyway. I looked at him and said, “Wow,” and then headed down 10th toward Piedmont Park to meet up with my family.

My sister and brother-in-law both told me that they looked for me, and I wasn’t there. I hate that the most about the situation. So here’s my question–what would you have done? I know that cowbells are loud and not everyone likes them. But… it’s a race. If you don’t want to be around noise, I might suggest bowing out of your runner’s cheer section?

My sister suggested I do my best Will Ferrell, but I wasn’t quite up to it:

What do you think, trusty friends and readers? I want to know.

I cheer for you, Sea of Humanity. Cowbell, or no cowbell, I cheer for you!

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1. Plan time for the expo. It’s huge. 60,000 runners do the Peachtree, and if people bring friends to the expo well… It’s big. It’s also got some of the greatest local and national vendors exhibiting. Enjoy great deals and try new things. Plus there are some great speakers lined up, too. It’s really another part of the event, and fun, so take time to experience it. (I’ll be at the Ragnar booth Tuesday afternoon, so pop by and say hello!)

The expo. Not small.

2. Take MARTA to the race. Yes, even you, transit-phobes. Just embrace it. MARTA is the best option for getting to and from the race. It’s one of the reasons the race flows so smoothly on the Fourth. Just check the online schedules so you know when the trains will be at your station of choice. And know that the further north you are, the easier it will be to get on the train. They fill up as you get closer to Lenox.

Stinky people on MARTA. It’s a 4th of July tradition!

3. Get your MARTA card at the expo. Take cash to the expo and get your card there so you’re not the chump who misses your start corral because you were in line getting a card at the station. In the past the booth at the expo has taken cash only, so there’s that.

The MARTA card line last July 4th. Don’t be these people.

4. Start hydrating, like, yesterday. It’s Atlanta. It’s summer. Just living takes a lot out of you. There’s no shame in drinking water like it’s your job. I go through inordinate amounts of Nuun this time of year, and I’m done apologizing for it. Drink, drink, and when you think you can’t drink anymore, drink some more! Take a disposable bottle of water to the start with you. There will be water at various points around the start, but having your own will keep things in your control if you happen to run late. Also, as goofy as it sounds, I’ve taken a quart-size bag of ice with me to keep me cool while I wait to start. I hate being hot.

6. Watch the medians. There are big ol’ concrete medians in the first mile or so. They come up fast, before any thinning of the crowd, so don’t run in the middle in that first part or you may find yourself scrambling to avoid them.

7. Watch the water stops. Later, you’ll need to watch the water stops. This is where people get stupid. Water stops are located on each side of the street. But inevitably there will be a runner who is far to the right and will decide the water stop on the left is where they must be to hydrate. They’ll screech to a halt and you will nearly trip over them as they careen in front of you. My water stop tip is, keep going till the end of the stop, then grab water from one of the last volunteers. And be on guard for everyone else.

8. Don’t sweat Cardiac/Heartbreak/Heart Attack hill. If you train in Atlanta, you’ve probably run hills worse than this. Instead of stressing, look around. You’ll see people from the Shepherd Center (which treats spinal injury patients) out in this area. Focus on that, and on this incredible gift you have, to be able to run.

9. Yeah, the bridge that goes over the connector wobbles. It’s feels weird under your feet. Don’t let it freak you out.

10. STAY AWAY FROM THE FUR BUS. This should probably be number 1. They usually park on the left at Peachtree and West Peachtree (on the left, near Joli Kobe and Heidi Elnora). The whole place reeks of alcohol and by that point it’s hot out and… just no. No, no, no. It makes my stomach turn just thinking about it. I hate to bob and weave during a race, but I will weave if it means I don’t have to smell that smell and risk retching at 4.5 miles into my 10k.

11. You’re not almost there! Just before 10th, stay left so you’re ready for the turn. The crowds are heavy the whole race, but here, so close to the finish, they pick up. The problem for me, is that I always think I’m close to the end, but there is a good half mile from the turn to the finish.

12. Don’t stress, have fun. The Peachtree, for most of the known population,is not a race you run to win or even to PR in. It’s a race done for fun, to experience Atlanta in a unique way, and to spend time with running friends and family . Go with the flow. It will be hot and crowded, so settle in and enjoy it. There are so many sights to see and wonderful spectators, it’s hard NOT to have a good time, if you just let yourself.

Feel free to add your tips in the comments… And have a Happy Peachtree and a great Fourth of July!

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Just in time for Ragnar Chicago, here’s a glossary of must-know words.

Blinkie: A red light worn on the back of a runner during nighttime hours, or put on the mile marker signs on the course.

Bracelet: Slap bracelet worn by the current runner on the team. These are exchanged between the current runner and the new runner at each exchange.

Cowbell: The thing you need more of. Also, an excellent and obnoxious cheering tool.

Crazy: Adjective often used to describe Ragnarians.

Crazy? I think not.

Exchange: The spot where one runner finishes a leg and the runner starts.

Friturday: The days on which a Ragnar takes place. Refers to the way in which Friday and Saturday run together when you are on a steady diet of no-sleep.

Hand Off: When the slap bracelet is exchanged between runners.

A slap bracelet, handoff, and exchange.

Leg: A distance run in Ragnar, usually between 3 and 9 miles. Each runner runs three of these over the course of the race.

Major Exchange: The spot where runner 6 hands off to runner 7, or where runner 12 hands off to runner 1. All vans, and therefore all runners, meet at this point, so it is convenient spot to make available food, sleep, showers, and vendors.

Major Exchange. And an attempt at “sleep.”

Major Exchange.

Race Bible: All the rules that guide a Ragnar, in written form. Have to have one in each van.

Ragnar: A legendary Norse ruler and hero from the Viking Age who became known as the scourge of France and England and as the father of many renowned sons. Also, a 200-mile overnight relay running series, and THE MOST AWESOME TIME OF YOUR LIFE.

Ragnarian: One who has completed a Ragnar.

Ragnarians.

Roadkill: What Ragnarians call a runner that they overtake and pass during a leg. Teams often track this with tally marks on the side of their van.